Sugar Sugar?
by Croik
Summary: Ema drops off some evidence with Kyouya. KyouyaEma, post GS4, some very vague spoilers.


Phoenix Wright / Gyakuten Saiban, its settings and characters, are property of Capcom, and are being used here without permission. This fic is rated PG for light Kyouya/Ema. Takes place post-game and contains very vague spoilers towards GS4-3 and GS4-4.

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**Sugar Sugar?**

Oneshot

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She could hear music coming from Kyouya's office.

That in itself was not an uncommon occurrence. There was always music streaming out of the young prosecutor's office, usually some kind of rock or electronica that sent poor Mr. Payne into fits. It was part of what made Ema dread these visits and the damage they did to her ears--an occupational hazard not mentioned when she was hired.

But as Ema pressed her ear to the wood this time, it wasn't some over-hyped drum solo that railed against her hearing--it was a single guitar plucking out a slow ballad. It was an unexpected change, and it caused her to hesitate in the hall for a moment. But the evidence wasn't going to deliver itself, and she finally lifted her hand for a knock.

"Come in."

Ema stepped inside, and was treated to another surprise: the office was…almost clean. There weren't any extraneous papers strewn about, and each guitar--save one--was tucked into its proper display case. Though she should have been relieved, it was a little unnerving.

The man himself was reclined in his black leather office chair, feet propped up and a shiny blue guitar in his lap. He didn't take his attention away from the easy melody he was strumming as she came forward. It was actually kind of pretty.

"Hey." Ema deposited the sealed evidence bag she'd brought on his desk. "Here's the murder weapon you asked for. 9 mm hand gun. No prints, but there's some blood on the muzzle." She curled her finger to imitate squeezing the trigger. "Close range shot matches the coroner's report."

"Hm? Oh, good." Kyouya's blue eyes flickered to it only briefly and without much interest. "Thanks."

Ema frowned down at him. It didn't take a detective to know that something was off. Where was the flirtatious smile and boyish teasing?

"This'll be your first case in just over a month," she remarked, watching his face for some reaction. "Are you ready?"

"'Course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

The most obvious and defensive of answers. Ema crossed her arms. "I dunno, you look a little…distracted."

Kyouya finally stopped playing and lifted his head, facing Ema directly. A smile tugged his lips apart. "Just trying to figure this melody out."

"Oh?" Ema glanced around the office again, and scolded herself when she realized she had been looking for clues. _Clues for what?_ "Well, just make sure you brush up on the evidence before tomorrow morning. We could use a conviction."

She didn't mean that like it sounded, but Kyouya wasn't the type to take offense at an idle comment. He went back to plucking at the guitar strings. "Who's defending the case?" he asked, in his voice a deliberate effort to sound casual.

Ema's brow furrowed with another frown. Maybe her fears were correct after all--it was affecting him. It would be foolish to think otherwise, but she had never been able to see the symptoms before. She held back her answer a moment, waiting until Kyouya had to finally glance up again to get it out of her.

"One of Grossberg's firm," Ema said at last. Was it relief she saw in his face? "The one with the thick glasses. I forgot his name."

"Oh." Kyouya gave a little shrug. "No worries, then."

"Good." Ema stepped forward until she was right at the arm of Kyouya's chair. His curious eyes on her almost convinced her she was imagining things and that she shouldn't proceed any further, but a flat note from his guitar brought her back. "So. How're you holding up?"

"What do you mean?" he asked as he tightened the offending string.

"I mean, how are you doing?" Ema persisted. She set a hand on her hip as she tried to stare him down, which was difficult when he wasn't looking at her. "I know it's been a rough couple of months for you, what with--"

"I'm fine," Kyouya cut her off. He gave a little chuckle. "I mean, it sucks, but I'm fine, really." He played a minor chord. "It was…inevitable."

Ema wasn't sure what that meant, or even which of the events of the last few months he was referring to. As irritating as it was to admit, Kyouya was a lot easier to deal with when he was himself. She was used to being exasperated by his teasing. But comforting a man she barely even liked over two devastating losses…?

"Listen, Garyuu…" She placed her hand on the armrest of his chair. "If you, ah, want someone to talk to…."

Kyouya stared back at her, at first surprised, and then…that boyish little grin crept into his features at last, blowing away all the sensitivity she might have felt for him. "Aw, Detective. Are you…worried about me?"

That smirk, that childish, grating voice--Ema's jaw clenched against an involuntary reaction of annoyance. If she had been worried, that stupid look on his face banished any thought of it from her mind. "O-Of course not!" she sputtered. "I was just--"

Kyouya grabbed her wrist just before she could pull her hand away from the chair. "Know what would cheer me up?" he said brightly, setting his guitar in a stand on his right.

"Huh?" Ema tried to tug out of his grip without luck. "What are you--"

"Join my band."

Ema blinked at him, dumbfounded. It left her open to further attack--Kyouya pulled her closer, and by sitting up he was able to snake his arm around her waist. With a very un-ladylike squawk Ema was dragged down into the chair with him, held captive in his lap.

"Garyuu!" Ema struggled, but she was turned awkwardly, and by the time she twisted into a proper sitting position Kyouya had both arms around her. With an exasperated growl she gave his hands a shove and fell still. "Let me go!"

"Come on, Detective, Garyuu Wave needs a new member," Kyouya chuckled. He picked up his guitar again, setting it across her lap so she couldn't escape--as awkward as she felt, she wasn't heartless enough to damage one of his precious instruments in an escape attempt. He adjusted his arms around her so that he could play a few notes. "And I _know_ you have a lovely voice."

Ema blushed despite herself. "Don't be ridiculous." The guitar was cutting into her ribs, and the only way she had to relieve it was to lean back into Kyouya's chest. She tried to relax, telling herself that he'd let her go sooner if she just played along for a while.

_Besides, he really has had a hard time,_ she reminded herself sourly. _You can put up with him a little._

At least he smelled clean. Ema lifted her arms awkwardly out of the way of his, and finally reached to grip the chair back. The movement settled them better together, and even made Kyouya chuckle a little. She snorted and rolled her eyes. _Little brat._

"There, that's better." Kyouya began to play the serenade she remembered all too well. "You know this one. Come on, sing with me."

"Ugh, do I have to…?" She'd had quite enough of that.

"I'm not letting you go until you do."

_Just do it._ Ema sighed and licked her lips. _You know he means it._ "Just a little," she insisted. "I'm supposed to be working--"

Kyouya tipped his head so that his chin was rested against her shoulder. With her arms already raised it forced their cheeks very close together, and spread unexpected goose bumps up the back of Ema's neck. "It can wait," he assured softly. "Come on." He started the intro to the serenade. "Sing."

Ema's fingers curled, suddenly and inexplicably nervous with his smooth skin against her face and his arms around her ribs. She licked her lips again and finally started. _"Sugar…sugar…_ Ugh, did you really write these lyrics?"

"What, you don't like them?" Kyouya continued playing and took over the singing himself. _"Wrapped in your arms, you've stolen the key to my heart…"_

Ema made a face. It was…a lot different, hearing Kyouya's voice so soft and so close to her ear. Without the noise of the band she could hear how good he really was. Not to mention his stupid lyrics and the position she'd found herself in.

"Your turn," Kyouya reminded with a little nudge.

For a moment Ema forgot what the next words were, she was so focused on quelling the little bubble threatening to form in her stomach. When it finally came to her she stumbled a little. "N-No."

"No?" Kyouya laughed. "Why not?"

_I'm not shouting "pleasure" with your hands all over me,_ Ema thought determinedly. "What if someone hears?" She pushed at his guitar. "I've had enough singing."

"Okay, okay." Kyouya shifted a hand from the guitar to her stomach to hold her still. It did the trick--the pressure of his splayed fingers gave Ema a start, and she was too embarrassed by it to fight him. "At least listen to this new song. You'll have to learn it if you join up."

Ema sighed, but she managed to relax again as Kyouya went back to playing--the same song she'd entered with. _I don't believe this,_ she complained to herself. _I just came to drop off that evidence, and now…_ She shifted slightly, wondering at what point the room had gotten so warm. _I'm sitting here in his lap like one of his groupies. Way to go, Ema. Even if…it's a nice song, you shouldn't…_

Kyouya began to hum along with the melody he was playing, silencing that corner of her mind. They were so close she could feel the tiny vibrations of his throat. She swallowed hard. _You shouldn't be here,_ she reminded herself, trying not to think about how soothing the gentle music really was. _He's…just playing with you…_

And then he was singing, very softly, in a language she didn't understand. Every brief pause of breath moved her slightly with the expansion of his chest, the subtle reverberations of the guitar echoing back against her stomach. As Ema let go of her concerns for a moment she began to feel that there was something…deep, and sincere, behind the simple notes and foreign words. It was different than the other ballads of his she'd caught snippets of around the office and on the radio.

Whatever it was, it spoke to something in the young detective, collecting in her chest a potent sense of nostalgia. Whether it was the warmth of a firm, masculine body around hers, the low pitch of his voice or even the song itself, it had been a long time since anything had kindled that kind of contentment in her. She never would have thought that Kyouya, of all people, could make her feel that way.

Ema closed her eyes as she sank a little deeper into him. And when Kyouya turned his head just so, his breath skating against her chin, Ema felt a very girlish shiver akin to anticipation crawl up and down her spine. This song--it meant something to him, and he was sharing it with her. Even if she was imagining that much it was enough to propel her heart a bit faster, and before she had time to reconsider she twisted to meet his lips in a kiss.

Kyouya's melody broke against her mouth; his voice derailed into a surprised but pleased murmur as he returned the kiss. Even more startling, his hands came quickly off the guitar, letting it slip from his lap in favor of a proper embrace. Ema shivered as his broad palm pressed into her ribs. For a few brief moments, she let herself enjoy the sensual attention being paid her.

"Mr. Garyuu?"

The sound of a door opening was followed by a startled, insipid screech, which could only have been uttered by one particular human being. Ema sat up with a jolt, and elbowed Kyouya in the face in her attempt to scramble out of the chair. With her lab coat on and the back already so far reclined it was a difficult task, and as soon as she spilled onto her feet she had to grab for the edge of the desk to keep from falling over. To her profound distress, when she glanced up the first thing she saw was Winston Payne staring at her in shock from the doorway.

"Detective…Skye?" he squeaked.

"P-P-Prosecutor Payne!" Ema exclaimed weakly. Her face burned as she stumbled over an explanation. "I was just…I mean, we were…"

"I-I-I-I'll come back later," Payne stuttered. As if Ema wasn't horrified enough, Payne's own blush added another layer of mortification as he scampered out.

Ema slapped a hand over her face and gave it a fierce rub. "God! What's the matter with me? I can't _believe_ I just--"

She stopped, and turned swiftly around to face Kyouya once more. He was rubbing his nose after having been jabbed by her flailing limbs, but otherwise he looked perfectly calm. Even…smug. _Damn it. _"You! Th-This is your fault!" she declared.

"Is it?" Kyouya smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry."

"Ooh!" Ema gave a shudder of irritation and embarrassment. "You're horrible!" She straightened her coat and whirled on her heel, marching to the door. "Lazy-eyed good for nothing flirt--"

"Ema."

Ema stopped just before the door, and though she tried to fight the urge, she couldn't help herself--she glanced back at him over her shoulder.

Kyouya folded his hands over his stomach. There might have been a trace of sincerity left in his eyes, but his grin was as it had ever been. "Thanks for cheering me up," he said lightly.

With another shudder and a darkening blush Ema stormed out of the office.


End file.
